He who walks the soul
Death, faded memory to nothing
Emptiness bares the skin's reflected pain
Eyes of the soul's depths
Pains torcher drives its fiery
Personality rage to desire temptation
What is a soul except its being
Buried beneath the dirt fields
Where which that comes from the sun feeds
Heart to feel such anguish emotion
Like salt to a wound the burn
The faded soil, winters toll
Reality withering improvisation of dreams
A simpler love for life's ambition
Sourness of the wind crinkle still
Life's storm, space traveler amongst us
In another place, where we are
Not ourselves but somebody, something
What drives this beast out darkness
So loved am I who walks light
That its deception perceives me
Where in my depths I hide feeling
My heart wicked to minds perceptive
Or in our own thought one breathes
Reflection, stillness within life gives warmth
Aspire dreamer to what one is to be
Copyright © Steve Harvell | Year Posted 2024
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